


Little Boy Lost

by iamfitzwilliamdarcy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Arcturus who def needs a warning, Discussion of corporal punishment, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/pseuds/iamfitzwilliamdarcy
Summary: Sirius Black has made a troubling habit of sneaking out, exploring Muggle London, and turning his father’s hair gray early.Or: Five times Orion Black finds Sirius in Muggle London through the years (And one time he doesn’t).





	1. Ice Scream, You Scream.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izzythehutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzythehutt/gifts).



Sirius Black was six years old and having the adventure of his short life. Having given his House Elf the slip, and still giggling to himself, imagining the look on Kreacher’s face when he returned to Sirius’ room to find him gone, he had ventured out into Muggle London. It had been a plan in the making since the previous day, when Mummy had taken him along to Diagon Alley with her to fit him for new robes, and he had glimpsed beyond at things that moved and made noise on paved streets and a bustle of people.

He had found an old map of London in the Black library last night and pored over it in his father’s study. Orion had even answered some of his questions idly. Sirius was smart, and he learned the map easily. 

Home wasn’t far from Diagon Alley, close enough to walk, and it wasn’t long before Sirius came upon the bustle of streets. There were stores left and right, people in funny clothes hurrying around him. One woman stopped and gave him a scrutinizing look, so he hurried away. Different smells floated to him--food and other things that didn’t smell as good. 

He stepped into the street once, and one of the moving things almost hit him. It swerved, making a blaring noise, and Sirius hopped back on the sidewalk. 

“Careful,” a man said, squinting down at him.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

The man looked at him as if he were simple, and it made Sirius bristle. “A car,” he told him. Then, “And where your parents? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Sirius pulled a face at him, and hopped away when the man tried to grab his arm. “Hey!” he called after Sirius, but Sirius disappeared back into the crowd. 

He pressed his nose up against different shop windows. The Muggle stores didn’t sell the same things as the shops in Diagon Alley. They didn’t wear robes, and even their pet store was different--they had cats but no toads or owls. Sirius liked the pet store best. He actually went inside that one and lingered, wishing he had brought some of his Christmas gold to buy the puppy that licked his fingers and gamboled around in its cage. He found himself feeling very sorry for how trapped it was, and he only left when the store clerk started getting suspicious and, like the earlier man, asked after his parents. 

He had enjoyed several hours out in town when he noticed a shift in people. The streets were filling up with children, bags slung over their shoulders, chattering or running around. Sirius turned down a street lined with flats instead of stores, and came across a group of boys, some as young as he was and others old enough to be at Hogwarts, playing a game with a ball. They kicked it up and down, back and forth, into what looked like makeshift goals. The shouted and passed and stole, and Sirius was delighted. He was just about to run over and ask if he, too, could play, if they would teach him, when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. 

Sirius swallowed, suddenly feeling small and a little embarrassed, and turned to face his father. “Hi, Papa,” he said, smiling nervously.

Orion glowered down at him and said, through clenched teeth, “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

“Exploring?” Sirius tried. 

Orion sniffed, taking in their surroundings, his contempt obvious.

Sirius fixed him with a winning smile, but Orion was not moved. 

“We’re going home,” he said, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder and pushing the boy ahead of him to get moving. 

“Oh,” Sirius said, disappointed. “I was just finding the fun stuff.” 

Orion cuffed the back of his head, and Sirius threw him an injured look, raising a hand to where the blow had fallen. It had been extremely light, not nearly as hard as the boy deserved nor, really, enough to hurt, Orion thought, but he looked indignant and injured. 

“Is this why you were looking at that map last night?” Orion asked. 

“Maybe,” Sirius said. He seemed much less inclined to speak now that Orion had struck him. 

“You are not to do this again,” Orion told him sternly. “Have you any idea the worry you’ve caused your mother? Or the inconvenience to me? Making me come out here, among the Muggles--” he sneered to word, “looking for you?”

“Sorry,” Sirius said, blinking up at him. He wasn’t sincere at all, Orion was sure, but it was probably the best he was going to get. 

They walked along for a minute, turning back into the bustle of London, when Sirius said, abruptly, “Papa?”

“Mm?”

“Papa, since we’re close to Diagon Alley, can’t we please go get some ice cream?” 

Orion came to a halt, and Sirius took another step before realizing his father had stopped, hand still on his shoulder. The boy turned at looked at him. “Please?” he repeated.

“Do you think you deserve ice cream?” Orion demanded, eyes narrowed.

“Yes?” Sirius said, genuinely confused that that might even be a question. He smiled tentatively up at his father. 

“I think,” Orion said, “that you deserve a good hiding, and I have half a mind to give you one right here.”

Sirius frowned at that unexpected turn. “You never told me I couldn’t go to London,” he said after a moment, clearly thinking. “And anyway, you already hit me, so you shouldn’t be allowed to punish me again.”

“Shouldn’t I?” Orion asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips quirked, amused, but he schooled his face so as to not show Sirius. 

Sirius shook his head vigorously. “And anyway,” he continued, voice rising as he thought of a decent argument. “You and Mummy are always telling me I ought to learn and be clever. Well! I learned the map and I was clever to explore.” 

Orion sighed, not exactly caught but already weary of the argument. “We’ll discuss that more with your mother and tutors when we get home.”

“After ice cream?” Sirius said hopefully.

“Oh alright,” Orion agreed, exasperated. “After ice cream.”

Sirius bestowed a brilliant grin on him. “Thanks, Papa!” he said, and slipped his little hand into Orion’s own as they resumed walking towards Diagon Alley.

It was not altogether proper, Orion knew, holding his son’s hand like this, but London was busy and it would hardly do to lose the boy again in the crowd. Sirius skipped next to him as they made their way.

“Settle down and act properly,” Orion murmured to him, but without much heat. 

Sirius stopped skipping but he continued smiling. “You know what I think, Papa?” he asked.

“What do you think, Sirius?” Orion said, starting to feel weary again. 

“I think you don’t hit nearly as hard as Grandfather.”

“Oh?” Orion said, raising an eyebrow. Sirius nodded serenely. 

“You’ve displeased your grandfather then?” 

Sirius scowled. “I don’t think he’s ever pleased.”

“You shouldn’t talk about your grandfather like that,” Orion reprimanded, though he rather agreed. 

“Well, it’s true!” Sirius said, indignantly. “And anyway, he’s scary and I don’t like him.” 

“You should respect your grandfather, Sirius,” Orion scolded. Sirius’s scowl did not soften, so Orion tried again, letting a hint of amusement seep into his voice. “Ought I hit you harder, then?” 

Sirius shook his head seriously. “No,” he said, firmly. Then, squeezing his hand tighter, he added, “I’m not afraid of you, Papa, and I don’t think I should like to be.” 

“I rather think you’re not,” Orion agreed, leading him to Diagon Alley.

A boy should be afraid of his father, Orion thought, as watched Sirius lick his ice cream. Or at least respect him. That was only right and natural, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to demand that from his own son just yet.

And anyway, he was sure, his wife would certainly have an earful for their wayward son when they returned home.


	2. Mugged and Numbered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Eleven-year-old Sirius is granted a small bit of freedom prior to his first year at Hogwarts and promptly uses it to get into trouble. Good thing Orion is close by to bail him out, even if he is unrepentant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point should I put in a general disclaimer that the only place in London I've been is the Heathrow Airport?

Ditching his parents at Diagon Alley was easier than it really should have been, if Sirius were giving them proper credit due. But all he’d done was tell them he wanted to look at broomsticks and the pet shop for a little bit while they finished up the rest of their errands.

“Please,” he begged when his mother’s eyes narrowed.

“You already have an owl and a broomstick,” she reminded him.

“And first years aren’t even allowed a broomstick,” Reggie piped in. He’d, of course, read Sirius’ letter studiously.

“Yes thanks, Reg,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. Turning his appeal to his father he said, “You’re about to let me go to Hogwarts by myself!”

Orion stared down at him, impassive, evaluating, and Sirius stared back, though he couldn’t quite help fidgeting a little in impatience. Finally, his father nodded, just once, said curtly, “We’ll return in 30 minutes,” and swept off his still-protesting wife and remaining son.

Momentarily stunned by this show of trust, Sirius watched them retreat, to be sure his parents had meant it, and then set about doing exactly the sort of thing that would break that trust. He turned away from Magical Menagerie, walked straight past Quality Quidditch Supplies, and slipped back into the Leaky Cauldron, then out into Muggle London.

He had thirty glorious minutes away from his parents’ rules and standards of Good Behavior, away from shopkeeps who grovelled around them, away from anything proper and boring. Muggle London pulsed with adventure. He’d spent the past four years since his first excursion refining his process of slipping away, finding different places to explore, and, he was sure, he’d only just scratched the surface. He was old enough now, too, that people didn’t seem to mind if he didn’t have parents with him, at least for a little bit.

He generally knew where he was going, managing to keep the London map in his head, but there were a few times when he had to, without a map directly in front of him, circle around and reroute. He had a vague idea he might visit the London Zoo, though thirty minutes wasn’t much time allotted for that, and decided instead to pop into a candy store. In a spontaneous moment of generosity, he even thought he might buy some candy to sneak to Regulus. Reggie loved sweets almost more than pleasing their parents, and if Sirius brought him good ones, he was sure to keep where Sirius had gotten them from a secret.

He spent a while picking out different chocolates and taffies before carrying them over to the counter. The salesgirl looked up from her magazine, annoyed he’d interrupted her to actually do her job, and looked him up and down, pulling a face, before ringing the items up.

She told him the total, a number that confused Sirius. He slammed what seemed about the right amount on the counter, a few Galleons Uncle Alphard had given him as a present for starting school in the fall. Uncle Alphard was always looking for excuses to give him and Reggie money. It drove Mother mad.

The salesgirl stared down at the gold. “This some kinda joke?” She asked him, suspiciously.

Sirius shook his head vigorously. “No, Miss,” he said, remembering his manners to give her a charming smile.

“This isn’t money,” she said and, unmoved, pushed the coins back at him.

“It’s real gold,” he insisted. He gave her a haughty look, the one his mother would have used at any impertinent salesclerk who refused to give her her way. “You’ll take it. I’m paying for my goods.”

She actually laughed at him, a mean laugh, and pointed to the door. “Get out of here.”

“No,” Sirius said. “I want to buy—“

“I’ll call the police,” she threatened.

Scowling, he gathered up his Galleons. “I won’t be returning,” he told her primly, and marched out, her laughter following.

He checked his watch and gasped. His thirty minutes were almost up, and he wasn’t even close to the Leaky Cauldron. He’d wasted too much time trying to argue with that dumb girl. Scowl still etched on his face, he took off running towards Charing Cross.

He slowed a few blocks away, panting, and it was only then he noticed the man following him. He’d been in a car, but now got out and trailed Sirius at a distance, acting as though he was preoccupied with other matters.

Sirius could see the Leaky Cauldron now, but as he glanced over his shoulder to see if the man was still following him (he was), he bumped into another man. Sirius started to fix him with a haughty look and say “Excuse me,” but the man gripped his arms and manhandled him down an alley.

It was daylight, but somehow no one had seen to intervene. In the alley, there were three other men, and then the first one followed up behind Sirius and the man who had grabbed him. Sirius surveyed them, doing his best to look down his nose at them. After all, they were only Muggles and he was a wizard; what was more, he was a Black and that, apparently, meant something.

“What do you want?” he demanded, and the men jeered at him.

“Look at him, thinks he’s in charge,” a heavy set one to Sirius’ right laughed.

“The gold, boy,” the man who’d been trailing him said. “I saw you with it. Where’d you get it?”

“Treasure hunt,” Sirius said recklessly, thinking of his Galleons and the girl's reaction to them. Did Muggles not have the same money? He'd been coming for years to London without ever really having considered that.

He could feel adrenaline pumping through his veins and smiled, remembering a pictured story he'd flipped through in the Muggle library when he'd snuck down the year before. He added, “Ran into pirates a few weeks back, you know how it goes.”

The man holding him shook him, swearing at his insolence, but a moment later, he yelped and dropped his hold like he’d been shocked. Sirius tried to back away, back to the street, but the man who'd tailed him shoved him back to the middle of the circle.

“Smart guy, huh?” The one Sirius had shocked snarled, and someone asked from behind if they were sure the gold was real. 

"It is," the first man assured them. "I saw it myself. Here," he added menacingly, "I'll show you." 

The group closed in, but before anything could happen, a voice from behind said, “Let the boy go.”

Sirius felt a surge of something as his father approached. It wasn’t exactly relief, maybe a little annoyance. Father was always ruining his fun. He stood up straighter, though, feeling confident, as Orion pushed his way through the two men behind him to put a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t a comforting grip, but possessive and tight. His fingers dug into Sirius’ skin so hard he'd probably leave a bruise.

One of the men stepped forward, waving a knife he held. Never losing grip on his shoulder, Sirius felt his father move behind him and, by the way the man suddenly flew back knife clattering a safe distance away, knew his father had flicked his wand. Sirius thought of his own, new one, bought today and bundled away for Kreacher to take home, and wished he had it with him.

It wasn’t necessary, though. The man with the knife scrambled back to his feet and fled past Sirius and Orion. Orion turned his cold gaze to the others, each in turn, until every one hastily retreated.

“Didn’t cause no harm,” one muttered as he passed.

When they were all gone, Orion, grip still firm on Sirius’ shoulder, shoved him none-too-gently ahead of him back out of the alley.

“Ow, Dad!” Sirius protested, stumbling.

“You deliberately disobeyed me,” Orion hissed, voice compressed with fury.

“I was just trying to have some fun,” Sirius said.

Orion snorted. “And you don’t feel an ounce of shame about it, do you, boy? If I hadn’t come along—,”

“I was handling myself fine!” Sirius interrupted, indignant.

“Oh yes, talking about pirates and nonsense. What were you going to do, fight off five grown men?”

“Maybe,” Sirius said sulkily. “They were only Muggles.”

“And you are an untrained child!” Orion spat at him. He came to a halt and his grip pulled Sirius back. Spinning the boy around, he leaned over to glare directly into his eyes. “Is this fun for you, then? Running off, getting cornered by men who would’ve killed you without a second thought and robbed your corpse?”

Sirius shrugged a little uncomfortably under his father’s hands and gaze. “A little,” he said honestly. “It’s _exciting_.”

Orion drew in a sharp breath. After a moment, he straightened, his gaze cool and impassive again, but Sirius had seen something flicker in his eyes. He didn’t know or understand what.

When they started off again, Orion stayed in step with Sirius, grip still firm on his shoulder. As they approached the Leaky Cauldron, Orion spoke once more.

“I trusted you today, Sirius, and you broke that trust,” he said sternly. “How am I supposed to trust you to behave yourself away at Hogwarts when I can’t even allow you to be on your own in Diagon Alley for a mere half hour?”

It was Sirius’ turn to halt, staring up at his father in horror as the implication of what he had said set in. “Father, no,” he gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I could,” Orion said severely, watching his son’s face drain of color. “And I reserve that right, at any point in this year, to pull you out and drag you home. Do I make myself clear?”

Color returned to Sirius’ face, and he grinned when he said, “Perfectly.”

“Sir,” Orion corrected, a little unsettled by the boy’s abrupt mood lift.

“Yes, that,” Sirius said absently.

Under his hand, Sirius began to walk again, and Orion followed, brow furrowing, feeling a little confused. Orion has thought Sirius would take his threat far more poorly than he had. It was almost as if he hadn’t punished the boy at all.

He didn’t release his son until he could do so into his mother’s own vice like grip. She grabbed his arm and tugged him ahead, scolding him furiously. Regulus fell into step with Orion, little hand reaching out to grip the sleeve of his robe, but he didn’t notice, stuck in his thoughts of Sirius.

Hogwarts would be good for the boy. He was exceptionally bright, had far outpaced his tutors, and that was, he supposed, why Sirius was often bored. New, more challenging classes would keep him occupied and his tendency to look for fun (and find trouble instead) at bay.

“Papa?” Regulus said, tugging on his sleeve. Orion, startled looked around and then down at his younger son, who was chewing his bottom lip, an unsightly nervous habit, as he waited for his father to answer him.

“Yes?”

“Papa, is Sirius in much trouble?” Of course Regulus would work himself into a state of anxiety over his brother's stupidity and concern that anyone in the family might be arguing.

Orion sighed wearily. “I think, Regulus, that Sirius _is_ trouble.”

Still, Orion decided as Regulus giggled, cheered up, he would send an owl to old Slughorn—a bit of a warning, really—and request he keep a special eye on his newest Slytherin this coming year. 


	3. Motorcycle Mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Sirius lets a ten-year-old Regulus tag-along to look at motorcycles with him.

Sirius had slipped past the last of his father’s defenses, changed deftly into his Muggle clothes bought with months of saved allowance and birthday money, to head into the city, and was, he was sure, Scott free. 

Until he heard a small voice call his name from behind. He closed his eyes, supremely annoyed, and turned to face his brother. 

Regulus was still small, even for ten, and he was looking up at Sirius with his big dumb brown eyes. “Where are you going?” He asked.

“Nowhere,” Sirius said shortly. “Go back inside.” 

Regulus ignored him and asked instead, “Can I come?”

“No,” Sirius said flatly. 

Regulus frowned at him. “You’re going somewhere you’re not supposed to!” He accused, finally catching on. 

“No one will know,” Sirius said, taking a step towards Regulus and narrowing his eyes. Reg gulped took a step back. “If you don’t tell.”

“Why can’t you just come back inside and play with me?” Regulus pleaded. 

“Because I have plans,” Sirius said. 

“You never play with me anymore,” Regulus whined. “Not since you came back from school.” 

“You’re too old for playtime,” Sirius snapped, putting on a mock baby voice he’d picked up from their cousin. “Grow up, ickle Reggie.” 

Regulus’ lower lip jutted out. “Mummy says you aren’t to be mean to me.”

“Mummy also says you’re too old to be calling her mummy,” Sirius said impatiently. Then, “Fine, alright, you can come. You’ll just tell anyway.”

“Will not!” Reg protested. Sirius ignored this as it was inevitable. Reggie never  _ meant _ to tattle, but he did not hold up well under pressure, especially if it included lying to their parents. 

“But you have to do everything I say,” Sirius finished, and Reg nodded silently, his pout turning into a grin. He hurried forward to grab Sirius’ hand. 

“You’re too old for hand holding too,” Sirius grumbled, but he didn’t make Reg let go. 

Reg was wide-eyed as Sirius led them into Muggle London. He watched the people bustle by, carrying shopping bags, hailing taxes, carrying food. He stood particularly enraptured by the cars whizzing by. 

“Why does Father not like them?” he asked, and Sirius shrugged.

“He’s too old fashioned,” Sirius said promptly. “Close minded. And anyway, he doesn’t like Muggle things because they’re not Wizard things.”  

Regulus frowned. “Well, wizards are better,” he pointed out reasonably. “We have magic.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah--,” he stopped and spread his free arm out, encompassing the whole city. “But look at this! They did all of this  _ without  _ magic. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Regulus’ brow furrowed. “I guess so,” he said slowly. “But--,”

“I don’t want to talk about blood superiority or whatever,” Sirius broke in, looking angry enough that Reg snapped his mouth shut, afraid he’d be sent home. “I get enough of that at home and at school. Got it?”

Regulus nodded. He didn’t speak again for a good five minutes as Sirius led the way to wherever they were going. Eventually, Sirius sighed impatiently. “You’re allowed to talk, Reg,” he said, rolling his eyes for effect. 

“Where are we going?” Regulus asked, after waiting a moment to make sure Sirius was serious. “Where do you usually go when you come here?”

“We’re visiting a friend,” Sirius said. Then, “I do lots of things when I come here. The less you know, the better.”

“A friend from school?” Reg wanted to know, and Sirius just barely masked his disappointment when he shook his head. 

“No, James is with his parents in France and Remus’ mum isn’t well and Peter couldn’t get away from the house.” He shook his head again, this time in exasperation at his friends. “So just us today.”

“Which friend, then?” Regulus asked again.

“You’ll see,” Sirius said evasively. “Come on.”

Regulus was quiet a moment and then, his voice lowered, “Why is everyone looking at me?”

Sirius came to such an abrupt halt that Reg stumbled into him. “Watch it,” Sirius said without any heat. He narrowed his eyes staring down at Reg, looking alarmingly like their mother evaluating whether he needed new robes or not.

“You’re not dressed like a Muggle,” he said. “I forgot. Here, I can buy you something--Remus showed me how to exchange our money for theirs--and then you’ll blend in.”

Regulus chewed on his lip, anxiety growing. “I don’t think Mummy and Papa would like that very much.”

“They won’t  _ know _ , Regulus,” Sirius said.

“But you shouldn’t do something they wouldn’t like just because they won’t find out!” Regulus cried. “It would still upset them!”

“Fine, let people laugh at you, you little goody-two-shoes,” Sirius said, and Regulus felt very small at having upset him so much. 

Sirius marched off and Regulus hurried after him to catch up, but Sirius wouldn’t let him catch his hand again.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus said eventually, panting from trying to keep up with his brother’s stride. He had grown taller and his legs longer in his year away at Hogwarts. “Please, Sirius, I’m sorry, really!”

Sirius slowed finally and let Regulus fall in step with him, and it was as much forgiveness as Reg figured he would get. And anyway, Sirius hadn’t sent him home yet. Regulus didn’t dare ask again where they were going, though it felt as if they’d been walking forever. 

Finally, Sirius stopped and said, “Here we are.” The sign of the shop where he was pointing said “Motorcycle: Sale and Repair.” Regulus frowned, sounding out the first word twice. 

“What’s a--?” he started, but Sirius interrupted. 

“Come on,” He said, tugging Regulus’ arm. “I’ll show you.” 

He pushed open the door to the shop, which clinged and clanged with bells, and said, “Oi, Rolf!”

“Whaddya want?” A moment later, from outside the back door, a large gruff man appeared, wiping his hands on a rag. Regulus hid behind Sirius, suddenly frightened by his sharp tone and bulky appearance, but Rolf grinned when he saw who it was who’d entered his shop. “Sirius, lad!” he greeted. “Not out playing football with the other boys?” 

“No,” Sirius said glumly. “They went back to school already.”

“And your school friends? Not visiting anymore?” Sirius shook his head and reiterated the excuses he’d told Regulus earlier. 

“Ah well,” Rolf said. “I’ve got just the thing you’ll be interested in. Come on, let me show you this bike a man brought in yesterday.”

He beckoned for Sirius to follow him out back, and when Sirius moved, spotted Regulus for the first time. “Oh!” he said. “You did bring a friend!”

Sirius looked around, as if he’d forgotten, and then laughed. “Oh yeah, Rolf, this is my brother Regulus.”

Rolf offered a very large hand towards Regulus, who eyed it nervously. Sirius nudged him with his elbow and glowered, so Regulus accepted it. It was rough but surprisingly gentle as Rolf squeezed it, giving him a standard greeting. Regulus offered him a tentative smile in return. 

They followed Rolf out back, which seemed to be his repair shop. Tools lay scattered around and the bikes out here were more battered than the shiny, new ones inside. While Sirius and Rolf exclaimed and chatted over the bike Rolf had been working on, Regulus wandered away, eyes wide, fascinated by the motorcycles.

He didn’t understand how they were powered, but knew better than to ask if magic was involved. They were shiny, and gleamed in the sun, and Regulus reached out cautiously to lay his finger on one.

“Don’t get fingerprints on it!” Sirius shouted from across the yard, because of course he had noticed. Regulus jumped, startled, and looked over, but Sirius was already bent back over a particular part Rolf was showing him. 

Regulus made his way back over just as Rolf said, “I was about to take this one for a test spin, see if I’ve got it working again. You boys interested in a ride?” 

“Yes!” Sirius crowed, eyes lighting up. But Regulus frowned and took a step back, eyeing the motorcycle distrustfully.

He chewed on his lip, and then said, quietly, “Sirius, I don’t know.” 

“You don’t have to,” Rolf told him kindly, while Sirius said, impatiently, “Don’t be such a baby, Reggie, it’s fun.”

Regulus shook his head, backing up another step, and Sirius climbed on the motorbike, behind Rolf. “Last chance,” he said. “Are you coming or not?’

“Absolutely not.” It was not Regulus who answered but his father, voice cold and authoritative, from the doorway behind them. It terrified Reg and put a scowl on Sirius’ face.

Regulus turned slowly to face his father, who had eyes only for Sirius. “Sirius Orion Black,” he ordered sharply. “Get off that thing this instant.”

Sirius opened his mouth as if to argue, but Rolf gave him a little nudge, and, still scowling, he clambered down. 

Rolf followed him as he slouched over to Orion, who surveyed both his sons cooly. 

“Are you their father?” Rolf asked. “Only, I’m--”

“I don’t care to know who you are,” Orion interrupted, sparing barely a glance for the other man. “But I will thank you to never speak to my sons again.” 

“Dad--,” Sirius started, but Orion said, “Hold your tongue, boy,” his voice so deadly that Sirius obeyed. 

“Sir,” Rolf tried again, but Orion was already done with him. He gestured for his two sons to leave the shop ahead of him, and followed in their wake. When Sirius turned around to mouth sorry to Rolf, Orion placed a hand in between his shoulder blades and gave him a small push so that he stumbled and kept walking, face flushed red and fists clenched. 

“You didn’t have to be rude to him!” Sirius burst out as soon as they were out of the shop and on the streets again. Regulus always marveled at Sirius’ nerve, that they were in so much trouble and he even dared to be angry with their father.

“I don’t understand,” Orion said, ignoring his elder son, “why, after I have told you time and time again, you insist on disobeying me and coming to this filth hole.”

“We  _ live  _ in this filth hole,” Sirius muttered. 

“And you,” Orion snarled, ignoring Sirius and rounding on Regulus, who, try as he might, felt his lip tremble. 

“It was my fault, Father,” Sirius said, wearily, resigned enough to switch back to his parents’ preferred address. “I made him come. He didn’t want to.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Orion scoffed, his eyes never leaving his younger son. “Look at me, Regulus,” he ordered, and didn’t continue until Regulus, blinking back tears, old enough to know they were inappropriate, raised his brown eyes to meet Orion’s gray. 

“Regulus,” Orion said sternly, though he didn’t seem mad at him like he was at Sirius, “I have told you to not let your brother push you around.”

“I do not push him around!” Sirius protested from behind, mouth falling open as if he couldn’t believe he’d actually tried to take the rap for them both. 

Orion actually put a hand on Regulus’ head for a moment as he continued, “You have it in you to stand up to him, and you ought to learn and soon, or he’ll only get you both into more trouble.” Regulus gave him a watery smile as Orion turned back to Sirius, gaze deadly once more.

“And what were you  _ thinking  _ even getting on that Muggle deathtrap? Encouraging Regulus to do the same? Not only is it beneath your dignity, would you like to be responsible for your brother’s death? Your own, surely, you’ve shown me that time and time again, but--,”

“Rolf wouldn’t have gotten us killed,” Sirius said sulkily, kicking a rock on the pavement, hand shoved deep into his pants pockets. 

Orion sneered. “Oh yes, the Muggle. Are you so incompetent you can’t make appropriate friends? And,” he added, suddenly taking in exactly what Sirius was wearing, “what are you doing in such….attire? If you’ve lost those brand new robes your mother picked out, boy, you’ll be in a world of trouble.”

“Am I not already?” Sirius snapped, raising his own gaze. Regulus shrank into his father’s side at how murderous Sirius looked, a good imitation of their father only mere moments before. “I mean, I know it’s your mission to ruin my life at every turn, but--,”

“Oh quit being dramatic,” Orion said dismissively. “You’ll go straight to your room when we return home and you won’t have any supper. In fact, I think you ought to stay in your room with no supper all week. When you’re ready to be civilized, you can return to our table and eat with us.”

Sirius glowered at him. “Fine,” he said and stomped on ahead to Grimmauld Place, leaving Regulus and Orion to follow in-step, Orion’s careful eye still fixed sharply on his back so he did not get too far ahead. 

“And me, Papa?” Regulus asked, then corrected, “Father? Am I to also go to my room with no supper?”

Orion, surprisingly, gave a weary sigh. “I suppose for tonight, Regulus,” he said, as though he had actually forgotten about punishing his younger son. “You understand why what you and Sirius did today was very wrong?”

“Yes, Father,” Regulus said, his cheeks flaming with shame. “I’m sorry. Really sorry, honest. It would be okay if you gave me a full week like Sirius. Or--,” he gulped, but he felt he deserved as thorough a punishment as Sirius and ought to offer--”a spanking.”

He actually startled a laugh out of his father, and, bemused, met Orion’s now softened gaze. “Dear boy,” he said, in a rare show of fondness, “Why would I ever do that? You are the one I don’t have to worry about.”

“Oh,” Regulus said, unsure if he felt let down or pleased with the praise. 

“Come on,” Orion said, picking up his pace. “Let’s not fall too far behind. I wouldn’t put it past your brother to try and run off again.” 

And, as Regulus would always do, he followed. 

  
  



	4. Indecency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion catches his teenaged son in a compromising position

Sirius’ room, light still on, when Orion went to check, had been scattered with books in various states of open and close, as if he’d finally been doing his summer homework, jumping from subject to subject, and a pile of parchments at different levels of crumpled, letters he’d written and thrown away, and a large stack, hastily stuffed into envelopes,  he intended to send out. The clothes that had littered the floor two weeks ago now sat half-folded on Sirius’ newly made bed, as if he’d started to tidy and gotten distracted halfway through. But most importantly, his room was empty of its occupant, and so it was, in fact, he who had set off one of Orion’s precautions as he’d snuck out. 

Orion had been looking for him for nearly an hour now. 

It was late, only a waning crescent moon in the sky, and Orion, having exhausted the boy’s usual haunts with no luck, was extremely irritated with his son. What he did on, or hoped to gain from, these excursions into Muggle London, Orion had never particularly understood. He should, he thought, just go home and wait, rip the boy a new one when he finally dared show his face, but these thoughts had no sooner crossed his mind than he found himself, just on a hunch, making his way into a park. 

There were a few Muggle bums here and there; Orion kept his eyes peeled, not putting it past Sirius to spend a night talking with that filth, but he did not see the boy. Following the path, he was led into a more wooded area. It was there that he heard rustling and voices in the trees. He frowned, and took a hard right off the trail and into the woods.

It was not dense, actually, but apparently provided just enough shelter for a couple to sneak off with each other. It was in such a place he found Sirius tangled up with a Muggle girl. 

There was a blanket spread out on the ground, a picnic basket forgotten to the side, and his fifteen-year-old son, blessedly fully clothed though not in anything resembling a proper robe,  on top of a girl, lips actively engaged with hers, hands touching where they had absolutely no business. They did not hear Orion’s approach at all, otherwise occupied as they were.

Orion stood still a full twenty seconds, taking in the scene, and then, enraged, marched over and grabbed Sirius, bodily hauling him off the girl, who shrieked.

“What the hell--?” Sirius started, but froze when he recognized his father. The girl scrambled to her feet, appealing to her God even as she hastily tugged her shirt back down. 

“Go!” Orion barked at her. 

Her face was red with embarrassment, and her lip wobbled. 

Sirius slipped out of his father’s grip and reached towards her, saying, "It's okay, Mary!", but Orion ordered again, imperiously, “Go home, girl. This instant.”

She turned and fled, and Sirius rounded on him. “We should make sure she gets home safe,” he insisted.

Orion stared down at him. “You have no right,” he hissed, “making requests of me here and now. Do you think you have an grounds to stand on with me?”

Sirius, not listening, took a few steps after her, but Orion caught his shoulder just as he looked like he were about to break into a run to catch up, and swung him around, giving him a rough shake.

“Have you no shame?” he demanded. “No decency?”

“Apparently not!” Sirius said, recklessly. “Are you really just going to let her go wandering by herself--?”

Orion shook him again, so hard his teeth clacked together, cutting him off “What do I care of a Muggle girl? And what do  _ you  _ care? It is beneath you to even look at her, much less carry on as you have.”

“Only you think like that, Dad!” Sirius said, hotly. “And it says a lot more about you than--”

“Have you defiled her?” Orion interrupted. “Should I be expecting a half-blood brat to show up on my doorstep soon to bring shame to this family?” 

“No!” Sirius said. “Merlin, we we’re only snogging.” 

He wrenched himself out of his father’s grip and danced a few feet back. Then, of all things, he grinned up at Orion. Orion stared back down, amazed at the audacity. 

“You will not see this girl again,” Orion said, discomfited. “I will not have you cavorting with scum and ruining the family name.” 

Sirius laughed, and it actually sounded genuine. “Sure, Dad,” Sirius said, so casually, so  _ easily _ that Orion knew the boy was laughing at him. “I’ll just pop by tomorrow, break it off with her, explain that my father is--,” 

“That constitutes seeing her,” Orion snapped, feeling very much like he ought to have control of this conversation and very much like he didn’t at all. “In fact,” he added, thinking quickly, “You will not leave the house again this entire summer.”

“Great punishment, I’ll bear that mind when I get the urge,” he said loftily. “Good job, Dad, Mother will surely approve of how well you've managed me. And it’s always nice to have advice to ignore, the way I’ve done all summer, and last summer...and the summer before that and the one before that too!” 

Orion took a step towards him, and Sirius took another step back, eyes gleaming.

“Maybe I’ll even marry dear old Mary, not that I have particularly strong inclinations to get married at all. Did you know that marriage as an institution--” 

“Have you been drinking?” Orion demanded. 

“No,” Sirius said, evenly. Then amended, “Well, I mean yes, but not much. Barely a glass of wine.” He gestured towards the picnic basket where a mostly full bottle of elf-made wine stood. There were no glasses lying about, and Orion was forced to conclude that, like savages, they had taken swigs directly from the bottle.

“You little thief,” he snarled. “How dare you pilfer from your own parents?” 

Sirius examined his fingernails, apparently bored. “Too easily,” he admitted. “There was no challenge, it was hardly any fun at all.”

“Is this a game to you?” 

Sirius shook his head slowly, smiling. “Tonight is. Just having fun. Merlin, I was going to fly to London Tower on my broom tonight. Or Big Ben, I don’t know. But then Mary was free, and she’s afraid of heights--”

“And a Muggle,” Orion interrupted pointedly.

Sirius inclined his head in acknowledgement and continued, “so we came out here instead, and when she had to get home, I was going to fly anyway.”

“You’re not strong enough of a flyer to have done that,” Orion commented, unsure exactly where this conversation was going. “You would’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“No,” Sirius disagreed with a laugh. “I would’ve been fine. Perfect, even. I can fly well enough. And my broom is top of the line, you saw to that even though I don’t play for the House team like little Reggie. I guess you prefer that because you don’t have to feel guilty about rooting for the good little Slytherin and not me, but anyway, I would’ve stolen Reg’s broom--he keeps up with it better. I did clean mine today, though, if you were wondering how I take care of your gifts to me, and it would have been--,”

“Be silent,” Orion ordered, and Sirius, listening but refusing to comply, said, “I don’t want to go home tonight, Dad. I can’t sleep, I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I stay there a moment longer.”

“Two weeks ago,” Orion said slowly, not understanding, “I couldn’t get you to leave your room. Not for meals, not for anything. And now, I can’t get you to stay there when you ought to. What is the matter with you?” 

“Nothing!” Sirius protested. “I’m feeling really great, actually. I just wanted to get somewhere, do something.”

“You will get yourself home,” Orion said. This time, when he stepped closer, Sirius did not step away. “And you will go to bed.”

“I don’t  _ want  _ to go to bed,” Sirius said, frustrated. “I’m not even tired, Merlin.”

Orion didn’t ask how that could be, as he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. Instead, he repeated his order, “Come with me this instant.” 

Sirius was just starting to repeat his own refusal when Orion reached for him again and, grip tight on the boy’s arm, began marching him back home. 

“Dad,” he said, struggling against Orion’s hold. 

“If you’re bored,” Orion said, “and want something to do, I will start you tomorrow learning what it is you’ll be doing when you inherit the house from me.”

“I’m not  _ bored _ ,” Sirius insisted. “And anyway, that won’t alleviate any type of boredom. I just find it funny how--,”

“You’ll be grateful to know,” Orion added, raising his voice over Sirius’, “that I will not be informing your mother of your activities tonight.”

“You won’t?” Sirius asked, finally mostly tracking what Orion was saying and sounding startled about it. 

Orion shook his head. “More than you deserve, perhaps, but it would only upset her.” He paused, and threw in wickedly, “Though it would, perhaps, accelerate her plans for you.”

The punishment did not land, as Sirius had stopped listening. His eyes were focused in on one of the Muggle bums sleeping on a bench. 

“You made us leave the basket behind,” Sirius accused abruptly. He sounded irritated now. “I had food in there we could’ve shared.”

Orion passed a dismissive eye over the bum, and shrugged. 

Sirius turned back to him, opening his mouth furiously, but Orion, who knew his son well enough to know he could talk a man’s ear off if he set his mind to it, had had quite enough, and pulled out his wand. Taking a leaf out of his wife’s book on dealing with their elder son, he pointed it out Sirius and cast “Silencio.”

Sirius opened his mouth a few times, before settling on glaring at his father, arms folded across his chest.

“There now,” Orion said. “Much more agreeable. Let us return home before the sun rises and others suspect us of indecency.” 

He gripped Sirius’ arm again, as if he let go the boy might become untethered and actually fly to away as he’d proposed earlier. Sirius stomped the entire way home, ensuring each footfall was as loud as he could manage. 


	5. Christmas at Grimmauld Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Sirius sneaks away from a Christmas party to the chagrin of his father and ire of his grandfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arcturus basically assaults Sirius in this chapter so if that's not your thing, pls pass

That the annual Black Family Christmas Party, hosted at Grimmauld Place with guests of all Sacred 28 Families invited, was several hours in with no major disturbances was, in Orion’s mind, a minor miracle. He had lost track of his elder son hours earlier, but Orion supposed as long as Sirius was not causing any trouble, he didn’t have much room to complain. It wasn’t until he saw his father bodily drag his younger son away from a group of older boys that Orion realized something was amiss. 

He followed them quickly into the side room, flinging the door open just as Arcturus raised his hand to Regulus. 

“What’s going on?” he asked delicately, shrewd eyes taking in the situation. 

Arcturus let his hand fall back to his side, and Regulus, already flinching away from his grandfather, turned to Orion in appeal. “Father, please, I promise, I don’t know where he went!”

“Has Sirius disappeared then?” he asked, while Arcturus scoffed. 

“Of course he has,” Arcturus snapped. “I saw him slip out ages ago and he hasn’t turned up again, and this one--” he sneered at Regulus, “--insists on covering for him.”

“I’m not, sir, honest!” Regulus insisted, his eyes widening. 

Orion spared Regulus a passing glance. “He’s not,” he said. 

Arcturus snorted his disbelief, and Orion, looking over his father’s shoulder, continued, “Regulus, though unduly loyal to an undeserving party, has never quite mastered the art of lying about it.” 

Arcturus threw a look of contempt at his youngest grandchild, who was old now enough to resist the urge to shrink away into his father’s side, though the desire was shown across his face. 

“You’re dismissed,” Orion told him. There was no winning for Regulus here--he ought to have more backbone, learn to show no weaknesses, but lying to Orion and Arcturus about Sirius would have also have gotten him into trouble.

Regulus shot one last furtive look between the two of them, and, when Orion gave a slight incline of his head, dashed back towards their guests, leaving Orion alone with his father. 

“You baby him,” Arcturus accused, watching the place where Regulus disappeared.

“Hardly,” Orion said. “If you’ll excuse me--,”

“No,” Arcturus snapped, taking a step forward, his cane scraping against the floor. “I will not excuse you.”   


Orion drew in a deep breath, kept his annoyance out of his tone, “What can I do for you then?”

“I want to know,” Arcturus said, “what you plan on doing with that boy?”

“Who, Regulus?” Orion said airily. “I imagine we’ll allow him to finish his schooling, at which point we can find him a suitable wife, and--”

“Don’t play dull with me, Orion Arcturus,” his father growled. “I’m talking about Sirius, and you know it. You’ve let him go on for too long.”

“Sirius Orion,” Orion said slowly, cautiously, “is clever and spirited. I admit he has some...wayward tendencies, but he’s young still.”

“Youthful energy, pah!” Arcturus laughed meanly. “How many times have I told you? You have to beat the rebel out of the boy, or he’ll never fall in line.” 

“Thank you for your advice, Father,” Orion said stiffly. “Ought we return to the party now?”

“I would think,” Arcturus sneered. “That you would be out looking for that damned whelp of yours and dragging him home by the ear.”

“Well, certainly,  _ I  _ am,” Orion said through clenched teeth. “I already have a good idea of where he is. But we really shouldn’t deprive our family and guests of your company much longer.”

Arcturus laughed again. “Oh, no, boy, I’m coming with you.”

Orion blinked. “Are you?” he said silkily. “You want to go out on a night like this?”

Arcturus pushed past him towards the cloak closet. “Yes, I rather think so,” he said. “I’d like very much to see how you’ll handle this situation. And ah, intervene, if necessary.

Orion flushed as he followed his father. “You really don’t have to come with me, Father,” Orion said, putting his heavy cloak on. “It’s quite unnecessary. Go back to the party, I won’t be long.”

Arcturus glowered at his son, undeterred, and Orion sighed, pulling his gloves on next. 

“I can manage my son,” he said, and Arcturus snorted. “Clearly.”

Orion pushed the door open irritably and plunged out into the night. It was a bitterly cold Christmas Eve, and snow was falling heavily. He paused, and said again, “Are you sure you want to be out in this, Father? This weather, at your age would--”

He broke off when Arcturus whacked him with his cane. Orion inclined his head in acknowledgement, and pressed his lips together, feeling humiliated, as he waited for his father to climb down their front steps .

“Well get on with it,” Arcturus snapped. He gestured out. “Lead the way to the dunghole where you’ve allowed my grandson to patron.”

“Yes, Father,” Orion said, gritting his teeth, fuming at Sirius for not being able to manage to stay at one party--just  _ one  _ his mother had said, just one the whole holiday season--the whole night through. 

Orion strode quickly towards the street of pubs he knew his son frequented when he was home. Try as he might, he had never quite managed to break Sirius’ habit of roaming Muggle London, though Sirius apparently operated under the delusion Orion did not know what he got up to. Arcturus, surprisingly, kept up well with Orion’s pace, though Orion temporarily entertained an image of the old man slipping on ice.

He chased that thought away, feeling guilty; a fall at his father’s age could kill a man, even a wizard.

There weren’t many people out in Muggle London this late on Christmas Eve. The shops were closed to any last minute present shoppers, and even the Muggles, apparently, had a proper sense of duty to family and had gone home to be among each other. There were a few drunks out and about, many on their own, though Orion passed at least one group of young adults behaving abysmally, shouting and going on, even kissing each other. He did hesitate as he walked past them, just to be sure, that Sirius was not one of their number. 

He began pausing at each pub, just long enough to see Sirius was not a patron, before finally finding the boy.

It was a dump of an establishment, and Orion wrinkled his nose as he entered. Sirius had changed out of his dress robes and into a Muggle outfit--what he called jeans and and a sweatshirt--and was sitting at the bar, the only customer of the evening, chatting animatedly with the bartender. He was far more talkative and charming, in this stye, with this good-for-nothing Muggle commoner, than he had bothered to even pretend to be tonight, with his own family and family friends. 

“Be right with ya, gents,” the bartender called, and Sirius ducked his head, digging in his pockets, fishing for money. He had just thrown a crumpled paper bill on the table, when Arcturus grabbed his shoulder, turned him around, and backhanded him across his face. The heavy signet ring with the Black family crest he wore caught Sirius’ cheek, cutting it enough that blood leaked steadily down his face; had he not been in Arcturus’ surprisingly strong grip, he might have fallen back against the bar with the force of the blow. 

“Oi!” the bartender shouted.

Sirius’ voice overlapped his. He managed to get out “What the fu--,” before his grandfather struck again. 

“How dare you?” he spat, raining blows down on his grandson. “How dare you besmirch our good name, sneak out of a party like a gatecrasher--”

“Father--” Orion tried, but Arcturus ignored him, his own voice rising.

“--fraternizing with filth, clothing yourself in such an undignified way! I won’t have it in this family, boy, I won’t!”

The bartender had come around the bar to Sirius’ aid, but the moment he put his hands on Arcturus’ shoulders to pull him off, shouting that he had to go or the police would be called, Arcturus pointed his wand at him and blasted him into the wall. 

Sirius used the moment of distraction to push his grandfather away. “Get  _ off _ me, you miserable old man!” 

Arcturus stumbled back a step, but caught himself and shoved Sirius so he fell against the bar and, shouting that he would beat the impertinence out of Sirius if it was the last thing he did, raised his cane. He landed two strokes before Orion grabbed his arm.

“Father, really,” he said firmly. “That’s enough.”

“Now you show up,” Sirius muttered, but his father and grandfather both ignored him. 

“I told you, Orion, I did,” Arcturus said, jabbing his finger hard into Orion’s chest, “I told you you ought to ‘ve beat that boy hard and often long ago, and if you wouldn’t do it, someone else would have to.” 

Orion didn’t say anything to that, and Arcturus held out his cane to him. “Go on,” he snarled, breathing heavily, “discipline the boy. He doesn’t respect me or his family, he doesn’t respect you,  _ make him _ .”

Orion glanced over at Sirius, one hand on the bar holding himself up, head bowed, his other raised to meet his face. He returned his gaze to meet his father’s steadily, and shook his head. 

Arcturus’ face twisted in contempt as Orion said, softly, “This is a private matter, Father, and--,”

“Don’t make excuses for your weakness,” Arcturus snapped. He set his cane back on the floor, surveying his son and grandson, disgusted. Then, abruptly, he drew himself up. 

“Come along,” he ordered. “We’re going back to the party, and I expect you both in attendance until the very end.”

His marching orders given, he himself lead the way out of the pub. Orion turned to Sirius, who was still leaning against the bar, panting, his face murderously furious. He reached out a hand to help the boy straighten up, but Sirius snapped, “Don’t you fucking touch me,” and Orion gave that up as a bad job, not even bothering to correct his language. 

“Really now, Sirius,” he said impatiently, moving away from him and to the Muggle. “Was it so hard to stay at a party for one evening? You can’t stand our very presence so much you sneak out at the first opportunity you get?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” Sirius said from behind him. 

Orion sighed, and focused on modifying the Muggle’s memory. “It’s the holidays, can’t you at least try to be civil?”

“Tell that--,” Sirius said, flinging his arm towards the door as Orion turned back to him and, with a wave of his wand, set right any of the disturbed furniture, “to  _ him _ .”

He continued, before Orion had a proper response to this, “Is it any wonder why I can’t stand being around you people?” 

“You’re included in that ‘you people,’” Orion reminded him dryly. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and steered him sternly after the Black patriarch. “This is your family. Come, let’s catch up, we have a party to return to.”

“I didn’t sign up for  _ this family _ ,” Sirius sneered, looking uncannily like his grandfather had earlier that evening. “In fact, for your information, I  _ hate  _ this family.”

Orion tried very hard not to roll his eyes. “You’re sixteen, you’ll get over it.” 

Sirius snorted. “Unlikely, but your optimism about the matter is almost endearing.”

“I’m not optimistic--,”

“Then surely just blind,” Sirius snapped. “I think I’ve made it perfectly plain how I feel about our relations. Merlin, a party like that is  _ suffocating _ .”

“Present company included?”   


Arcturus chose that particular moment to shout at them to quit idling and hurry along. Sirius’ face turned stormy. “Present company absolutely included. I hate that man most of all.”

“You are only saying that because you’re upset he caught you in your mischief and punished you,” Orion scolded him sternly. “I’ll admit he was a little harsh, but you should show him, and this family, more respect.” 

“And you,” Sirius burst out, “should try standing up to him every once in a while!”

Orion halted, suddenly furious, and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders. Leaning in, face close to his son’s startled one, he hissed, “What, exactly, do you think I just did back there for you?”

Sirius rallied quickly, “Let him have a good go at me!” 

Orion stepped back and shook his head, voice turning cold. “If you don’t want to listen, I won’t waste my time speaking. We’re going back to this party, you’ll find some proper dress, and you will be the absolute charming young man I know you have in you. I saw you talking to that common Muggle as if he were your equal,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “I know you have it in you to be pleasant and sociable.”

“I  _ like  _ Mitch” Sirius muttered, but he seemed cowed enough. He at least fell into step with Orion when he started walking again, though Orion thought he heard, distinctly, a low, “Fuck you,  _ Dad _ .”

  
Whether he was meant to hear it or not, he did not know, but ignored it. To indulge Sirius would only lead to further arguing, and Orion was weary enough as it was.   

When they returned home, Orion stopped at the bottom of the steps, and held out a hand for Sirius to stop. Still looking defiant, Sirius obeyed, his arms folded across his chest--though whether that was out of petulance or cold--surely his outfit was not warm enough for this weather-- Orion was uncertain. 

Orion reached out and took Sirius’ chin gently. Ignoring the way Sirius tried to disguise a flinch, he tilted the boy’s head, examining the damage.  

“Where your grandfather is concerned,” Orion said absently, but still softly, so Arcturus, grumbling at the top steps while he waited for them could not hear, “you got off rather lightly. You’ve hardly had a true beating from him. Push his patience much further, and I’ll have little room to intervene; he is head of this family.”

Sirius glared back at him, and Orion sighed, pulling out his wand. “I’m not as good at this as your Mother, but if you hold still, I’ll clean you up.” 

“It really takes the sting and message out of the punishment if you just go and heal the boy, Orion Black, you ought to know that!” Arcturus called from the top step.

“If he returns to the party like this, Father, people will talk,” Orion said, waving his wand so that the cut on Sirius’ cheek pulled itself back together. Then, he touched it the boy’s face, holding it there as gently as he could, even as Sirius grimaced, to bring down the swelling and redness.

He was, Orion thought idly, a very handsome boy. 

“Pah,” Arcturus grumbled. “They talk about him anyway. Favorite topic of conversation, he is. He makes me a fool and this family a laughingstock.”

“Yes, well,” Orion said, straightening. “We ought to mitigate that gossip as best we can.”

Arcturus glowered down at them both, then turned and stomped back inside. 

Orion closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead. Dressings down from his father were never particularly pleasant, and when they occured in front of his own children…

It was Sirius’ fault in the first place, he reminded himself. The boy had no room to feel pity for him.  Not that he seemed to; he was still huddled up in himself, his face, now healed, still mutinous.

Orion gave Sirius a small, almost gentle, push. “Go on,” he said, following closely behind as Sirius began to climb up the steps. “Get your robes back on and rejoin this party. He shouldn’t notice your absence again for another thirty minutes. If I don’t see you in twenty minutes, I’ll come looking, and you’ll be extremely sorry when I find you.”

Sirius made a face over his shoulder, not recognizing the small mercy of a moment to himself Orion was offering him, and, though already obeying, said, mockingly, “One day you won’t find me and then maybe you’ll be the extremely sorry one.”


	6. For Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius runs off after a fight with his mother; Orion does not find him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever to post! I keep staring at it and it keeps not getting better, so here it is, the thrilling conclusion, in all its sad glory

“He packed his bags,” Walburga told him, her voice trembling. “He’s not coming back.”

“We’ll see,” Orion assured her. “It’s not the first time he’s run off after a fight.” He paused. “Or in general.”

“This is different,” she insisted, and Orion watched her, his brow furrowing. She was different too—he had never seen her like this. Furious, sure, as she had been earlier, fighting with their son. Contradictory, of course, far more than his wife really ought to be. 

She had raged for a good two hours after their fight, but now she was staring out, a blanket draped over her shoulders like a shawl, stoic except for the tremble in her voice and shoulders. 

No, he had never seen her like. 

“If he’s not back in an hour, I’ll go out and find him,” Orion said confidently. 

“You won’t,” she said. 

“‘Merlin, woman,” he snapped, feeling irritable. “You act as those you’ve never fought before. He gets his temper from you, after all.” 

She didn’t answer, only clutched her blanket tighter to her. 

“What’s so different about this time?” he demanded. 

She was quiet so long Orion almost gave up on her. Then she said, “I slapped him.” 

Orion blinked. “As if he’s never been—“

“And I hexed him,” she continued as if she had not heard him, “and I told the ingrate to never disgrace the house of my fathers again.”

It was Orion’s turn to be quiet. “That was not your place,” he said stonily.

She turned on him, her lovely face twisted with ugly fury. “Well, you refused.”

Orion opened his mouth, but she turned her back to him again. She was infuriating and unreasonable, and he wouldn’t deal with her now. He marched out of the room, barely spared a glance for a white-faced Regulus hovering outside, not even a reprimand for eavesdropping, and slammed his way out of the house. 

He didn’t have a plan when he headed into London, and Orion Black is not a man accustomed to letting his emotions rule him. Still, here he was, walking quickly, almost feverishly, eyes peeled for his son. 

(Had he been more familiar with it he might have recognized the feeling welling up inside him as panic. As was more his custom, he squashed it down.) 

Sirius has his favorite haunts, places Orion had found him more than once, but once Orion was faced with the indisputable fact that Sirius had snuck out far more frequently than Orion had caught him and was sure to have many hiding places he did not know of. 

As a last attempt, he searched the park where he had once caught his son with a Muggle, but he was nowhere to be seen. The sun had long since set, but to go home and admit his failure to his wife--it was more than Orion could bear. He sank onto a park bench, defeated. 

The moon rising overhead taunted him. Sirius kept late hours--Orion did not. It was as if his son were laughing at him. And when Arcturus found out...he closed his eyes, and only Black breeding and decades of self-discipline kept him from burying his face in his hands. 

“Hey, Mister, what’s the matter?” 

The small voice jerked him out of his thoughts, and his eyes flew open. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. Then, it registered that the boy in front of him was too young to be his son, his eyes too blue, not Sirius’ stormy gray, his face too round with baby fat, where Sirius’ had always been sharpened with aristocratic refinement.

He stared at the child, then said, voice harsh, “Go home, boy. Go home now, to your father.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he turned and fled. Orion watched him long after he was gone. He cared little for some Muggle child, but it was far too late for one as young as he to be out on his own. 

After a long while, Orion stood, with all the grace due his last name and fine breeding. The moon shone brightly over him. 

He returned home alone.


End file.
